


what a swell time

by retts



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Christmas Prompt, Cuddles, Fireplaces, Fluff, God how fluffy can you get really, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 06:44:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retts/pseuds/retts
Summary: ‘Festive,’ Dele remarks as he surveys Eric for a moment, hands on his hips, those perfectly shaped eyebrows lifted high. Eric smiles and pats his lap. Eventually, Dele goes over, looking put out. It’s an act, of course. Dele loves this sort of stuff, loves being pampered. When Dele is close enough, Eric pulls him in by the front of his shirt until Dele is lying half on top of Eric, their legs intertwined.





	what a swell time

**Author's Note:**

> anon prompt: Hello, I loved your fic at ao3, it was so cute! Can I submit a prompt? Could you write a Christmas fic where Eric cuddles with Dele and his dogs by the fireplace??
> 
> yesss this is sooo cheesy

 

Eric wakes up to a hand on his shoulder and hair in his mouth. He blinks his eyes open to a room darker than he remembers it being, and he slips his arm under Dele’s neck (and that _is_ Dele, snuggled shamelessly against him whilst swiping through Instagram) and angles his arm to glance at his watch. Nearly six.

‘Found you kipping on the floor when I arrived,’ says Dele without looking up. His socked foot rubs up and down Eric’s leg. ‘You do remember that we have a perfectly decent bed, yeah?’

Eric settles back on the floor. ‘I was playing with the dogs and must have fallen asleep. Hm, where are they? Babies! C’mere, my children! Dele, can you get a pillow?’

Dele locks his phone and sits up, reaching over to grab the nearest two pillows on the sofa and dropping them on top of Eric’s head with a snicker. Eric hears the dogs come running down the hall, whining and growling. Dele slowly gets to his feet, pressing a kiss to Eric’s forehead along the way. Eric looks up at him and snags him by the arm, slotting their mouths together properly. It’s the easiest thing in the world to do, from that first kiss after a euphoric derby win to the countless ones stolen after, behind closed doors and the tinted windows of their cars.

Something wet and cold pokes Eric on the back of his neck and he reaches behind him with his free hand towards one of the dogs. The kiss breaks, and Eric catches Dele rolling his eyes as Clay and Cisco commandeer Eric’s attention by jumping on him, barking like mad. Eric laughs and ruffles their fur, their precious faces.

‘I know when I’m not wanted,’ says Dele as he reaches up and stretches, yawning at the ceiling. ‘Fuck, I’m shattered.’

‘You look it,’ says Eric. ‘Have a lie down with me and the dogs.’

Dele arches a brow at him. ‘On the floor? No, thanks, mate.’ Cisco nudges at Dele’s hand and Dele pets him, flicking his fingers under the dog’s chin.

But Eric is nodding, grinning at his own brilliance. ‘Yes, Dele.’ He gets up and places his hands on Dele’s shoulders. ‘Stay,’ he says seriously.

A hand swats Eric on the ear and he winks at Dele. ‘Tosser,’ Dele calls after him as Eric skirts round the sofa and out into the hall with the staircase. Under it is a cupboard which they’ve stocked with laundry and other bits in the house. It’s very Harry Potter and Dele adores it and has threatened to keep Eric in there once or twice when they have a row. Eric grabs a thick patchwork quilt (by someone’s gran, most likely) and bounds back to the lounge. The fireplace pops, Dele on his knees in front of it as he stokes the fire.

‘You read my mind,’ says Eric and shows Dele the quilt. Cisco and Clay are cuddled up under the window that looks out into the back garden, one asleep and the other watching the crazy humans. Eric shoves the coffee table back to free up more space and spreads the quilt in front of the fireplace. Dele grabs the pillows and chucks them at the makeshift bed, adopting an innocent expression when one hits Eric on the side of the face.

‘You were in the way, Eric,’ says Dele, tongue in cheek.

‘Just shut up and get in with me,’ says Eric, crawling onto the duvet and plonking down the middle, propped up on two pillows. ‘Ah, wait - ‘ Eric takes out his mobile from the pocket of his joggers and opens Spotify, searching for the right playlist. He finds one and hits play. _Jingle Bell Rock_ comes out of the speakers and Eric puts the phone down on top of a pillow.

‘Festive,’ Dele remarks as he surveys Eric for a moment, hands on his hips, those perfectly shaped eyebrows lifted high. Eric smiles and pats his lap. Eventually, Dele goes over, looking put out. It’s an act, of course. Dele loves this sort of stuff, loves being pampered. When Dele is close enough, Eric pulls him in by the front of his shirt until Dele is lying half on top of Eric, their legs intertwined.

Eric runs his hand over Dele’s hair and fluffs up some of the curls. ‘Still damp. Did you shower?’

‘I’ve been home for an hour. I could have left you here with a crick in your neck and shivering cold. That would teach you.’

‘Instead you cuddled with me. You’re a sweetheart, huh?’

Dele crosses his arms over Eric’s chest and props his chin on top of them. The firelight does lovely things to the angles of his face, making him look sharper and softer all at once. His eyes are especially mesmerising. Eric traces along an eyebrow, down the corner of Dele’s eye, over the ridge of cheekbone, and presses into the dimple on the side of his mouth.

‘You sleepy, Del?’ asks Eric.

‘A bit. I woke up quite early this morning. Didn’t really have a lot of chances to relax.’

‘The glamorous life of a famous footballer,’ says Eric with a teasing lilt in his voice, ‘I wonder how that’s like?’

‘Shut up,’ snorts Dele, eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘I can’t help it if everyone wants a piece of me.’

‘I think I’ll start a scrapbook of all your photoshoots.’

‘Do it and I’ll divorce you.’

‘We ain’t married, babe. I’m practically a free man.’

‘Ha! See if I blow you tonight. You’d better reacquaint yourself with your right hand again, as well.’

‘Got plenty of people queuing to do that - _oof_ \- ’ Eric grunts at the sudden elbow digging into his solar plexus. ‘Only joking, of course!’

‘You better be,’ mutters Dele as he settles back down, shifting slightly until his leg slots in between Eric’s.

‘You must be too tired for bants, that was too easy,’ says Eric.

Closing his eyes, Dele nods. The fire crackles and the Christmas music plays ( _through the years we all will be together if the fates allow_ ) and the rest of the room is cold but Eric is perfectly warm and cosy, his arm around Dele’s waist and the other hand gently digging into the tense muscles on Dele’s back.

‘Tha’s nice,’ Dele slurs out, his eyelashes fluttering as he yawns and rubs his cheek against Eric’s chest. ‘Good Eric, tha’s good. Love you.’

Laughing softly, Eric hugs Dele to him and whispers, ‘Love you, too, Delboy,’ and only smiles wider when he gets a soft snore.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is good for my soul <3


End file.
